Shorties Volume 2
by organanation
Summary: A second collection of short stories, most of which have appeared on tumblr. Mostly just fluffy HanxLeia and BailxBreha.
1. Together Again

_AN: Welcome to volume 2! The first to chapters are Bail and Breha fluff. Bail and Breha meet up on Coruscant after several weeks apart._

Breha remained in her seat, waiting anxiously until the captain gave the all clear signal. Usually, it was _her_ waiting on the landing pad and Bail coming excitedly down the ramp. Breha kept her composure as the ramp descended before her. She walked regally down the gangway and into her husband's arms.

"There you are, my queen," he whispered, holding her tightly.

"I've missed you," she returned.

"Not as much as I've missed you," Bail stated, offering his arm. She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, and he covered her hand with his.

It had been nearly a year since her last trip to Coruscant, and Bail pointed out a few of the things that had changed on their ride to his apartment. Breha knew it wasn't exactly decorous to be hanging all over anyone the way she was at the moment, but they only had 18 hours together, and she intended to make as much out of it as possible. Besides, the only others that could see them were their personal staff. It wasn't as if they'd never seen the Senator with his arm around his wife, or the two of them sharing brief kisses or sweet glances.

Bail dismissed their personal staff once everything was situated. He pulled his wife into an indulgent kiss.

"I've missed you," she murmured, leaning forward for another long kiss. "How long do we have until the reception?"

"Not long enough for anything good," Bail muttered dejectedly, pressing kisses into her hair.

"Kissing is good," Breha argued, tilting her chin up to prove her point. He indulged her for a few moments.

"We should get ready," he murmured. Breha sighed.

"Very well. Promise me we can pick up here later, though," she asked.

"Of course, my love. I already passed on our regrets for drinks afterwards," he informed her, accompanying the statement with a salacious grin.

"Such a smart man you are. It's hard to believe there are people who believe I married you for your looks," she teased, pulling him back for a final kiss before walking into the bedroom.

It was such a small thing, but they missed it every time when they were apart: getting ready together. Whether it was for the day, for a ball, or just for bed, there was something profoundly intimate about being in the same space while they made their personal preparations.

Breha always appreciated having her husband fasten her dress rather than an attendant, even though it was a simple task that took a matter of seconds. It was in the familiar way his fingers felt against her neck, the way his hands would smooth down the fastener to her waist, where they'd pause slightly while he dropped a kiss behind her ear and whispered that she was beautiful.

Bail was rather fond of watching her comb her hair and then twist it effortlessly into the styles he knew so well but would never understand. He liked talking over mundane things with her while they got ready, and he liked how she'd smooth her hands down his shoulders and over his chest when they were both finally put together and came to each other in a mutual unspoken need for a kiss.

They were true to form once again, and they stood near the bedroom door together, reveling in their closeness after weeks apart. Breha pressed her hands into his chest and he drew her in for a kiss.

"Shall we, my love?" he asked, gesturing grandly to the apartment door.

"Indeed, my darling."

Breha didn't really mind going to social events on her own. It was a necessity, most of the time. There were always plenty of people to see and talk to, an abundance of people willing to sit with her at banquets and mingle with her at parties. Still, she was always a bit jealous of the couples in attendance who were never subject to the awkward moments between conversations, never were suddenly left at the table alone or waiting on the edge of the crowd, didn't have to go back to an empty room or a cold bed. Breha felt a little extra lilt in her step from being on her husband's arm that evening.

They greeted other Senators and planetary royalty as they circulated around the room together.

"My love, this is Senator Padme Amidala, and this is Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi," Bail introduced, gesturing to the young man and the pretty woman beside him. It was obvious to Breha that the woman was attempting to hide a pregnancy. The couples exchanged polite conversation for a moment before drifting away.

"I didn't think the jedi were allowed to have personal connections of… _that_ nature," Breha murmured into Bail's ear.

"They aren't. It's all very complicated…I don't believe the child is his, but rather the child of another Jedi—Kenobi's padawan." Breha shook her head.

"Complicated, indeed."

"Nothing we need to worry ourselves with this night, my love. Are you ready to say goodnight?"

"The sooner the better. These shoes are killing me."

The trip back to Bail's apartment seemed faster, somehow, not that Breha minded. His fingers were dancing along the back of her hip, and his breath was hot against her ear. They locked the door, set the security system quickly, and wasted no time on chaste, light kisses.

Sometime later, Breha slipped on her silk robe and sat up to finish fishing the pins out of her hair.

"Please, let me," Bail offered, slipping his hands into her long, black tresses. When he'd collected the remaining pins, Breha handed him a pearl-handled brush and began to comb through the snarled areas.

"I've been waiting all day for this," she admitted. Bail swept her hair over her shoulder and pressed a kiss into it. Breha gathered her hair and wound it into a simple, loose braid to sleep in. Bail settled himself under the covers and Breha slipped in beside him.

" _This_ is what I've been waiting for. Falling asleep next to you." They kissed slowly, Breha put out the light, and they fell asleep tangled up in each other.

 _AN: Fluffy reviews mean fluffy writers write more fluff._


	2. Oh, What a Beautiful Morning

_AN: Bail and Breha fluff about mornings._

The alarm clock on the bedside table squawked abruptly, waking the slumbering couple. Breha sat up and silenced the shrieking noise before stretching her arms and fumbling for her robe, which was tangled up in the quilt at the end of the bed. Bail remained buried under the covers.

"Good morning, my love," Breha whispered, leaning over to kiss the blanket over his head. A groan came from underneath and a hand fumbled out from underneath to reach for her.

Breha, however, was already out of bed and floating ethereally through their room. Bail wasn't exactly sure what she did every morning, but he knew he had about 30 seconds before she opened the curtains. Breha didn't disappoint—he heard her bare feet on the tile floor moving towards the window before the sound of the curtains being thrown back ushered in the painfully bright light of the morning.

Breha smiled as the lump of husband pulled her pillow over his head.

"It's a beautiful day," she called, looking out over the sun rising over the mountains.

"Mhm. Haven't even had my kaf yet, Love," he grumbled. Breha grinned and pushed the windows open far enough to let in the dewy air. The queen took a deep breath and spun around, enjoying another beautiful Alderaanian morning. "You're like a kriffing fairy princess," Bail muttered.

"I think that makes you a troll," she informed him teasingly as she danced her way over to her dressing table. Humming, she let out her braid and brushed through her long hair quickly, letting it flow freely around her shoulders in the same way her dressing gown was flowing around her feet.

"Probably," he agreed.

"I love you anyways, my darling troll," she placated, coming over to kiss him.

"How do you always look so beautiful?" Bail asked, finally pushing the bedding away from his face to look at her. Breha leaned over him, her hair falling into his face.

"You are a hopeless flirt, Bail Organa," she admonished playfully, bending down to press a kiss into his mouth. Bail's hands sprang up around her hips and he pulled her down on top of him. His wife giggled as he rolled them over together, winding them up in the blankets. They playfully struggled against one another for a moment until he leaned in to kiss her, and then they were only struggling to be closer.

"Do you think they'd miss us if we didn't move from this bed all day?" Bail asked.

"Well, I can think of a little girl who might get into all sorts of mischief if Mama and Papa don't come down to breakfast," Breha surmised. Bail sighed.

"That's very true, he agreed before giving her a lavicious grin. "Guess I'll just have to take you while I can get you."

"I have to shower before the council meeting," she scolded, wiggling out of his grasp and jumping up from the bed, hair and robe askew.

"Breha…" he called, reaching an arm toward her longingly. She gave him coy smile and stepped into the 'fresher.

"You could come with me," she offered. Bail looked around his comfortable nest and weighed his options.

Breha tossed her robe out onto the floor. Her lace nightgown followed a moment later. He heard the water turn on and the Breha began singing. He immediately recognized the tune as an old space shanty. The lyrics were filthy, and he always meant to ask her where she learned such a vulgarity…

"Those are awfully dirty words for a Queen to be saying," he teased. She jumped when his head appeared around the shower door.

"Glad to see you're finally awake," she stated, turning back to the water demurely. "I thought you needed kaf."

"Turns out there are other things that work even better," Bail stated, joining her under the falling water.

They were almost late to breakfast that morning.

 _AN: The review box is right there..._


	3. Don't Wake Me Up

_AN: I did a tumblr challenge writing cuddles recently. Here are the results!_

Han hoped the sound of the door cycling closed wouldn't wake Leia. Rieekan had not-so-subtly mentioned that she'd been overextending herself in his absence. It was nearly 0200 and hopefully, she was asleep. He'd be able to crawl in bed beside her without disturbing her too much.

He clicked the locking mechanism and looked over to the bunk. The lump in the blankets was still sleeping, snoring slightly. Han smiled.

It'd been almost three months since he'd seen her last, just after the Battle of Endor. He'd taken that commission, which meant he had to go where they sent him—even if it meant that he couldn't be with her all the time. They'd decided that peace and a chance at a future was worth a few months' separation.

Han put his bag on the floor and got out of his clothes. He carefully peeled back the blankets just far enough to slip in beside Leia. She rolled over sleepily and immediately snuggled into his bare chest.

Han stayed motionless for a moment, wondering if Leia would stay asleep.

"You're soft," she mumbled. He chuckled.

"You're tired," he replied. Leia groaned an agreement, shifting to rest her head on his shoulder.

"S'busy," she explained, pushing her face into his neck. Han wrapped his arms around her and couldn't resist pressing a few kisses into her cheeks. She settled in then, and Han thought again that she might go back to sleep. "Wait—" Leia sat up suddenly, eyes wide open.

"I'm just here for a few days on the way through the system," Han explained, tightening his arms around her as she moved to embrace him.

"I thought I was dreaming," she said between kisses.

"If we're dreaming, don't wake me up. I forgot how good you feel."

 _AN: Reviews make happy writers, and happy writers write fic!_


	4. Read On, My Love

_Prompt: BailxBreha, on a couch_

It was rare that Bail finished for the evening sooner than Breha did, but a meeting of the Regional Ministers regarding some new legislation coming up next week had gone dreadfully long. He was sitting on the couch in their chambers, wearing his robe and reading through some frivolous news articles from the Coruscanti press.

Breha came in just before the clock struck the midnight hour. Bail could tell from the look on her face that she needed a few moments to collect herself. He waited for her to change from her dress to her nightgown.

She sank down on the couch beside him with a very un-regal huff and collapsed into his side. Bail wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss into her hair.

"Good evening, my queen," Bail greeted.

"Sweet prince," Breha returned, leaning back to kiss him before tucking her head against his chest again.

"I take it things didn't go well?" he asked, rubbing her arm with his thumb.

"We're resuming negotiations in the morning," Breha sighed, pulling her feet up underneath her and leaning into her husband's ministrations.

"Should we get some rest then, my love, so you can be refreshed for the morning?"

"My mind is far too restless to sleep now. Would you read to me?" she requested.

"I'm afraid my reading isn't anything particularly gripping." He showed her his datapad and the page that was pulled up: _Twenty Outer-Rim Vacation Destinations that are Out of this Galaxy!_ Breha giggled.

"Read on, my love."

 _AN: Reviews make me happy!_


	5. When the Thunder is Clapping

_Prompt: HanxLeia,_ _In the backseat of a car, During a thunderstorm_

"I can't fix it, not without a part." Han cursed and slammed his hand into the front of the speeder. Leia looked at him expectantly with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Well? What are we supposed to do for the night? It's nearly dark out, and there's a storm rolling in."

Han glanced up at the darkening sky. Thunder rolled in the distance and the horizon lit up with lightening.

"The engine's busted, Sweetheart, but the roof don't leak. We'll push it down into that grass over there and signal Chewie. He'll be here before daybreak."

Leia glanced out at the roiling sky before coming to help Han get the speeder well off the road. The wind began to blow and the temperature started dropping rapidly.

"There, Princess. I'll take the backseat, you can have the front seat. Unless you'd rather share," he offered with a smirk.

"Shut up," Leia demanded, yanking open the door and crawling in to the front seat. Han got comfortable across the back bench and they sat in tense silence for a few minutes. Thunder rumbled overhead and the metallic sound of raindrops pinging the roof of the speeder filled the cab. Leia shifted restlessly in the front seat.

Normally, a thunderstorm would help lull her to sleep, but tonight, with only the thin roof of the speeder between her and the rest of the galaxy, it made her nervous. Would lightning flashing off the metallic shell of the speeder attract unwanted attention? Would excessive rain flood the area, making their escape from the planet difficult? Would they be able to stay warm enough? Would Chewie be able to get the ship landed in such foul weather?

A loud crack of thunder sat her up suddenly, and a wall of wind hit against the speeder.

"Sweetheart? You okay?" Han asked. Leia drew in a shaky breath. "Come here, Princess," he murmured, offering her his hand. She hesitated a moment before accepting his offer and crawling over the seat. It was certainly crowded—the backseat was not long enough for Han to lay flat. His knees were bunched against one side, and his shoulders were braced against the other.

Leia's hand slipped and she fell onto Han's prone form. His arms came up intuitively around her and they settled into one another. Han tucked her head to his shoulder. Thunder cracked outside and she tensed.

"You wanna know something funny?" Han asked in a conspiratorial tone, his knuckles pushing little circles into the small of her back.

"What?" Leia asked skeptically.

"During an electrical storm, Chewbacca's hair stands on end."

"Really?"

"Mhm." The utterance came from somewhere low in his chest, and Leia almost shivered from how it felt against her ear. "He looks like a giant ball of lint." Leia chuckled.

Another crack of thunder. Han's hand splayed flat over her back and Leia was surprised to find that the contact was not at all unpleasant.

"You comfortable?"

"'M fine," she murmured. Thunder cracked overhead and the rain continued to ping against the roof. It wasn't long before Leia was asleep.

 _AN: That's all for today! Please drop me a review!_


	6. Dr Solo's Insomnia Cure

_Prompt: Falling Asleep_

"Well? How do I look?" Leia asked, stepping up on the little platform and looking into the mirror. Han looked up from where he was seated on the little posh bench—the bench that Lando referred to as the _boyfriend_ bench, the place where the men sat while women tried on pretty dresses.

"Exhausted," he replied, giving her a wink and standing. This was their third dress shop and possibly her hundredth dress. Leia wasn't very picky when it came to clothes, but her brother was getting _married_ , and this dress had to be _perfect_. Before they went shopping, she'd worked a ten-hour day, and had put in four more just like it earlier in the week.

"Thanks for that," she muttered, spinning to see the back of the dress again. "I don't know. Eely said she could probably get that green one in my size…" Leia muttered to herself as he slipped his arms around her waist and perched his chin on her shoulder.

"I liked the green one," Han offered.

"You liked the green one because it was two sizes too big and gapped in the front," she countered, covering his arms with hers and leaning back into him, appreciating the added height the mirror platform gave her.

"I liked the color, too," he defended playfully, pressing a kiss into her jaw. "You can go down first thing in the morning. It's time we head home. I'm tired, and so are you."

Leia agreed and changed back into her own clothes. It was only a short walk back to their apartment, and Han pulled Leia under his arm for a tight squeeze when the elevator doors slid closed behind them.

"I don't think I'm relaxed enough to head for bed just yet," Leia murmured into his side. "Maybe I'll just see if I can get a few hours of work done and come to bed when I'm sleepier."

"Nuh-uh, Sweetheart," Han protested. "I got a fool-proof way to get wound up princesses to fall asleep," he bragged, directing her out of the elevator and through their front door. "You go put your pajamas on and meet me on the couch."

Five minutes later, Leia emerged from their bedroom wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, her hair braided over her shoulder. Han was waiting on the couch and passed her a glass of wine. Leia accepted it and sank into the plush couch beside him. He threw the big throw blanket over their laps and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. His fingers slipped up and down her arm in a featherlight touch, raising goosebumps along the skin.

"You remember the night after that really bad mission, we finally made it back to the Falcon and after we took off, we both collapsed on the acceleration couch and we fell asleep on each other?" he asked quietly, murmuring into her hair.

"Mhm," Leia replied, finishing her wine and setting the glass on the coffee table. She sat back into Han's embrace again, and he shifted his touch slightly to her neck, tugging at the baby hairs that were too short to be caught into the braid.

"You 'member that night on Endor? After everything?" he asked. She nodded. "We decided we were going to make love 'til sunrise and we barely had our clothes off before we were both asleep?"

"Mhm," she repeated, shifting against him until her head was in his lap. Han's hands switched tactics once again, the hand near her belly moving to massage her hip and the hand by her head brushing over her temples, stroking the wispy hair against her forehead.

"You remember that next night, how we were stargazing and talking about how all the planets and all the stars were safe again?" Her eyes fluttered closed and Han smiled. "We brought the mattresses from the bunkroom up on top of the Falcon, and the big comforter from our bed," he rumbled in a low, calming voice. "We laid under our big blanket and all the stars all night? I remember playing with your hair until I could barely feel my fingers anymore."

Leia's fingers came across her belly to wind with the hand tracing her hipbone. She took a deep breath and her breathing pattern shifted and he knew from years of sleeping beside her that she was just about asleep.

Han's fingers slipped down her cheek and neck to trace the collar of the shirt she was wearing. Her eyes opened—heavily, slowly, like they really wanted to stay closed.

"Can we go to bed?" she slurred sleepily. Han nodded and helped her to her feet. He'd tried, once, to carry Leia to bed…it hadn't gone well. Once they were both standing, she leaned heavily into him, wrapping both arms around his waist and locking her fingers over his hip. They walked to the bedroom and Leia sleepily tumbled into bed, shoving covers and pillows into position. She didn't lay down, though, as Han got undressed and brushed his teeth.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, flicking off the overhead light on his way to the bed.

"My pillow wasn't here yet," she complained, reaching a hand to him as he lifted the blanket. Her fingers slid across his chest and down his arm as he settled in beside her, and her head fell onto his chest. Han's hands resumed his tender ministrations against her skin.

"Isn't this better than staying up and staring at your datapad?" he asked.

"Mhm. Kiss me goodnight?" Leia whispered sleepily, stretching towards his mouth.

"Always, Sweetheart," Han replied, meeting the kiss and snuggling her against his side.

"Thank you for curing my insomnia," she yawned.

 _AN: *tries to mind-trick you into reviewing*_


	7. Hiding in the Woods on a Snowy Evening

_Prompt: For warmth, Reluctantly, Out of necessity_

The cabin was ramshackle: cracks between the slats, dirt floor, a gaping hole in one corner of the roof. The chimney looked fairly sound, thankfully, so Han set a small fire on the hearth right away. The only furniture to speak of was a rickety table and two stools that were really just large logs sat up on their side. There was a place along the wall where a bed had been, but it was now just a pile of rubble.

The wind continued to howl as night fell, and it whistled through the cracks and out the hole in the roof. Han and Leia sat in stony silence, both still brooding about their earlier argument. They split the can of rations between them, uttering not more than a word for the entire meal.

"Should we bank the fire for the night?" Leia asked finally.

"Oh, are we gonna talk now?" Han sniped.

"I don't intend to _converse_ with you, Captain. I only wish to inquire if you think we should bank the fire so it doesn't go out overnight," Leia returned.

"Well _excuse_ me, Princess. I don't much _care_ what you decide to do with the damn fire. I'm going to sleep." With an air of finality, he pulled the zipper closed on his sleep sack and turned to his side, putting his back to her. Leia rolled her eyes, raked the fire, and zipped herself in her own sleep sack.

Leia woke up shivering a few hours later. She moved to stir up the coals—and swore. The floor of the cabin was soaked—the rain had soaked in, and the fireplace was under an inch of water. There was no hope for getting those coals to relight any time soon.

Han woke up to her curses.

"Whattsamatter? Damn, it's freezing in here. Looks like it's snowing through that hole."

"Fire's under water," Leia reported.

"That's not good. It's got to be damn near freezing in here."

"You'd better not be thinking what I think you're thinking," Leia warned.

"Well, it's _that_ or freeze to death, Sweetheart. Look, I'm not happy about it either, but I'm a little young to turn into a kriffin' popsicle," he bit. Leia huffed.

"Fine. Alright, fine. But I swear, if your hands wander where they're not welcome…"

"I get it, woman. Now get over here before we lose all the heat we have."

Leia crawled over and sat on her knees in front of Han.

"Well? Do you have a plan?"

"Bring your sleep sack. We'll zip 'em together into one big one."

It wasn't the easiest thing to do in the dark, and they took every opportunity to insult each other, but after a few minutes, they had their sleep sacks zipped together.

"In ya go, Princess."

Leia shimmied in and Han followed her. They were nose-to-nose.

"Howdy," he teased.

"Shut. Up."

00

Leia was quite cozy when she woke up—all except her nose, which was poking out of the sleep sack. She turned on her side, trying to find some way to tuck it in out of the cold. Han's nose was pressed into her neck, and her change of position made his breath tickle down her neck. She twitched and his arm tightened around her waist. She hadn't even realized he'd been holding her. It felt so natural…

"Wake up. It's morning," Leia demanded, a bit harsher than she'd intended. Han sat back, looking almost reluctant.

"Gotta admit, Princess. Not a bad way to wake up," he mumbled, sitting up and scrubbing a hand over his face.

"It's time we get a move on," was Leia's only reply.

 _AN: Really, please...just review._


	8. Beach Vacation

_Prompt: BailxBreha While someone's sick, In the bath, first cuddle_

Breha had been so excited to finally have her husband home for a change that she worked practically incessantly in the week prior to his arrival. She'd wanted free time to spend with him in his two weeks on planet. But a cruel twist of fate now had her relegated to bed with a bad case of the flu.

She really didn't want to give her husband an illness, especially being that he'd probably get better just in time to return to Coruscant. He'd been ordered, by royal decree of the queen, to sleep somewhere else last night so she could convalesce.

Breha rolled over and glanced at the chono beside her bed. It was 1700 hours and she was bored out of her skull after three days lying alone in bed. She couldn't sleep anymore, but her head ached so she couldn't bear the thought of reading or _anything_ , really.

The door slid open and she cracked an eye to see who'd come.

"I thought I ordered you to stay away from the germs, Bail Prestor Organa," she demanded in a weak voice.

"The doctor informed me that you've been on your medication long enough to no longer be contagious. I intend to spend the rest of the day catering to your every whim, my love," he announced in a grand voice.

"Please, don't shout. That's my first whim," Breha requested.

"As you wish," he whispered, sitting carefully beside her on the bed and kissing her forehead gently. She smiled at the contact: aside from a few moments after he landed the previous day, this was the first time they'd been together in over a month. His hand found her hip under the blankets and he rubbed up and down her side comfortingly.

"I'm sorry I'm not well enough to do…anything," she apologized.

"It's alright, my love. This way, they can't bother us. We finally have _vacation_ ," he marveled, lazily kicking his shoes off the end of the bed and tossing his jacket to the chair at her dressing table. Bail crawled further into bed with her, and she curved into the new heat he brought with him.

" _This_ is a vacation?"

"Sure. We can have dinner in bed, sit on the balcony for a little while, sleep late in the morning and take a nice long shower…"

"I don't think I can stand up long enough to shower. I've been taking sponge baths the last few days," she admitted. "That tub is too big to go in by myself."

Bail took the hint.

"I'll be back for you in a minute," he promised, kissing her lightly on the temple and going to draw a bath for them. Breha's mood was considerably brighter as she listened to him humming in the bathroom. She sat up and reached for the hairbrush on her nightstand, dragging it carefully through the snarled ends of her long black hair.

Her husband reappeared a few minutes later wearing his robe tied loosely around the waist.

"Our vacation awaits, my queen," he whispered, kissing her hand and reaching for the other to help her out of bed. She was stiff and sore from sickness and lying in bed for three days, but the promise of a warm bath snuggled up to him was enough to keep her moving.

Their entire bathroom was tiled in a sandy stone that gave the whole room a warm glow. The tub was sunken and probably had room for five beings, though Breha had only ever used it by herself. It felt wasteful, though, to fill up such a large vessel for her own enjoyment. But with the addition of her husband…she was willing to make the sacrifice occasionally.

He helped her pull her nightgown over her head and then step down into the warm water. She could smell the oils he'd poured in and she thanked the stars for such a wonderful husband. He came down the few steps beside her and settled himself against the wall of the tub, pulling her to lean into his chest.

They sat like that for several minutes, Bail's hands wandering aimlessly over her body, massaging at any tense muscle they could find, effectively melting Breha into a lump.

"Would you like me to wash your hair?" he whispered into her ear, placing a few loving kisses against the tender flesh of her neck.

"I would _love_ it," she breathed. Bail took more care with her hair than she took with it, herself. In their short time together as a married couple, she'd come to _crave_ his attentions to her long locks. He nudged her to lean forward and she complied.

He was so gentle, so meticulous, shielding her eyes when he poured water over her scalp, taking care not to catch any stray strands of hair in her earrings, carefully separating tangled sections of hair. Bail then worked a handful of shampoo against her scalp, taking it gently through to the tips. He massaged her scalp carefully beneath strong fingers even after the shampoo was sufficiently lathered, and she felt her headache melting away with the rest of the aches and pains.

After rinsing the lather out, he repeated his careful ministrations with the conditioner. That had to soak in for several minutes, so he pulled her back against his chest and whispered loving epithets into her ear.

"Do you know what the worst part about my bed on Coruscant is?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"You've never slept in it. I can't even roll over, on the loneliest nights, and find a pillow with your scent to hold until morning."

"You're a hopeless romantic," she scolded.

"Because you've never done that?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I thought I was being romantic," he countered.

"I always sleep with one of your shirts next to me," Breha admitted.

Bail chuckled and pushed her forward, ready to rinse the conditioner from her hair.

"We'll just have to remedy that, though, about me never sleeping in your bed…I have to come for the Interplanetary Trade Conference next month, which is three days long. I could come the night before and leave the morning after; that would give us five days and four nights together. I'll even bring my smelliest perfume to make sure my memory doesn't leave your bed in short order," she teased. Bail gave a low chuckle.

"Four nights? I _doubt_ that will be easily forgotten," he teased back. "In the meantime, however, I shall relish every moment I can spend holding the _real_ you," he promised, wrapping her up in his arms and pushing her chin towards his for a kiss. "How about we sit on the balcony and watch the sun set, and I'll comb your hair?"

"You read my mind."

 _AN: Last one for today! Please leave a review!_


	9. Tan Lines

_AN: Last week, Arallute requested Han and Leia go to a beachy planet for a vacation. I just had to write it for her-warning, it does get a bit NSFW, because would it really be Han and Leia vacationing on a beach if there wasn't a wandering hand or a lingering kiss?_

"Here. Put some of this on my back," Leia requested, passing a bottle of sun block to Han and scooting forward on the beach blanket.

"Sure, Sweetheart," he replied, taking the bottle and pouring out a handful of the lotion. He started at her neck, smearing a few drops into her hair line, then moving down her back, making sure to cover every inch of her dreadfully pale skin.

When he finished, Han slipped his arms around her hips and pulled her against his chest, crossing his arms over her bare stomach and hugging her tightly.

"I'm so glad we came here," she said, her head leaning into the curve of his neck. He turned his head and kissed her deeply, moving over her jaw and down the exposed skin of her neck when they broke the kiss.

"Me too. I figured kissing you when you're half-naked would be pretty good just about anywhere, but I gotta admit...makin' out on a beach with you when you're wearing that skimpy little bathing suit is pretty damn _great_ ," Han insisted, rubbing the bare skin of her belly, the tips of his thumbs grazing the scalloped edges of her magenta bikini. Leia nodded in agreement, melting into his touch and twisting around for another kiss.

"This is beautiful," Leia sighed, looking out at the sparkling water. She dragged her fingers though the warm white sand just off their beach blanket.

A child ran by in the surf, stopping every few feet to add another shell to her armload. Her parents trailed behind her, hand in hand. The man waved his free hand at them and Han returned the gesture.

"Maybe you should stop _—groping_ —me while they're still in sight," Leia gasped as Han's hands found the spot that drove her crazy.

"They're the ones who are walkin' through a private cove," Han retorted. Leia's head fell back against his shoulder as the little family rounded the point and disappeared behind the palm trees, leaving them in peace.

"I'm going to get tan lines shaped like your hands," Leia scolded, turning around to face him.

"I'm gonna have tan line shaped like you," he mumbled into their kiss. His hands massaged at her shoulders, muscles finally loose and relaxed. Leia yawned and draped herself against him languidly.

"Do you have a problem with wife-shaped tan lines?"

"No," he replied, laying back against the striped blanket and bringing her with him. "You know," he suggested, tracing the thin fastener of her top, "you could take this off. Being that you're so worried about tan lines." Leia snorted.

"If you promise to let me sleep, you can do whatever you want," she agreed.

"You _did_ keep me up for a while last night," Han teased.

"Wake me up in an hour or two. We can take a shower, and then go into town for dinner and a drink, and then we can come back here and do whatever you want," she promised, making herself comfortable beside him on the blanket.

"This is the best damn vacation we've ever taken," Han commented, rubbing her back and snagging the fastener on her top.

"Hey!" she exclaimed as he pulled it out from underneath her and tossed it toward their shoes. "This is the _only_ vacation we've ever been on, unless you count the trip to Bespin, or our day of furlough after Endor, or our long weekend on the Falcon after we got married," she countered.

"Any time I get you alone is vacation enough for me," Han said.

"I gave you my swimsuit. Let me sleep," she requested.

"Sure, sweetheart," Han soothed, leaning over to kiss her on the temple. "Sleep now, 'cause we aren't tonight."

 _AN: Please read and review!_


	10. All the Family I Require

_AN: This past week was HanxLeia week on tumblr, and I've got plenty of short stuff for your to read while you're waiting for The Empire Gang Strikes Back! The prompt for this story: Family. If you haven't figured it out, I am really not crazy about kids and usually just write Han and Leia as childless, or make it really vague. Not this time._

Leia sat back in her office chair and rubbed her eyes. She'd forgotten her glasses at home that morning and trying to read without them wasn't helping her headache at all. She'd left a message on Han's comm link asking him to pretty please bring them to her if he wasn't too busy, but she hadn't heard back. Unfortunately, today was her scheduled no-meetings day, when all her responsibilities consisted of sitting in her office, reading briefings, handling correspondence, and writing.

There were aspirin in the drawer, and she took a few, hoping to get her blooming headache under control. It hadn't started with the glasses, though—it had started when she walked through the doors of the office building and found the press corral full of nosy people.

Every so often, when the press ran out of actual news to report, they'd start bothering the well-known figures, the celebrities, the scientists, the politicians. Today had been her day (or definitely not her day, depending on how you looked at it) and she'd been hounded with questions left and right—and never questions about policy or her work or anything important—personal questions that they had no business asking.

"Ambassador, will we see you at the Senatorial Gala next week?" Why no, actually, that is a ball for senators, she sniped in her head.

"Do you care to comment on recent allegations of your husband's infidelity?" Who's Han cheating on me with this time, Chewie, or Luke? They'd had a good laugh last week in the supermarket check-out line when Han had spotted a poorly doctored picture of he and Lando in embrace splashed across the covers of several tabloids.

"Princess, tell us, are there plans for children in your future? Or have you forgone that avenue due to your bloodline?"

That question had almost made her pause in the hallway. She'd clenched her jaw closed and continued on to the elevators, leaving the press in the lobby to bother other people.

"You know, Your Highness, it wouldn't hurt to give them an answer on that one. You and Captain Solo have been married for quite some time. The fact that you don't have children makes people wonder if your marriage is…well, stable. If maybe you're not as happy as you seem," said the lady from PR. "And, if it's a matter of not…not being able to, well, I'm sure you could help console many couples across the galaxy suffering from the same malady," she'd encouraged. It had taken Leia nearly a full minute of composing herself not to just scream before dismissing the woman quickly.

There'd been a communique from the woman after about an hour with the subject line, 'Why Happy Couples Should Have Children', and Leia didn't bother trying to struggle through it without her glasses.

Her office door slid open and Leia cracked an eye open: Han. He held up her glasses.

"I think I love you," she said.

He raised his other hand, which held a what appeared to be a large grava-berry milkshake from her favorite fast-food place: a sure-fire way to help calm a headache.

"I definitely love you," Leia amended, sitting up. He came around behind her desk and set both items on her desk, leaning down to kiss her slowly.

"Hectic morning?" he asked, his warm hands lingering on the back of her neck and momentarily easing the throbbing behind her eyes.

"How did you know?"

"Isn't it always?" Han replied, straightening a bit. Leia quirked an eyebrow in agreement and took a long sip of her milkshake, feeling instantly better.

"Can I ask you something purely hypothetical?" she asked, leaning back to look up at his handsome face.

"Sure."

"Do you think we'd have been happier now if we had kids?"

He seemed surprised by her question, and brought his hand to sweep pensively over his jaw while he thought through his answer.

"I'm pretty happy just bein' you and me, Sweetheart," he finally said. "We always talked about it bein' that way, but we can talk about it again if you want," he offered. "Are you-are you not happy?

"No, no, I've never been happier. It's just…well, the PR department would appreciate it I disclosed our reason for not having a family. I just got a bantha-shit communique about it. They act like we're committing a grievous crime because we don't want to pop out a kid."

"We are a family," Han countered, a serious look on his face. Leia smiled a bit, feeling her anger abate just slightly as a fresh wave of love for him crashed over her. "What they say don't matter, does it?"

"No. I was thinking, I suppose, about why that matters to anyone. People always say they never knew they could love their spouse as much as they do until after they have a baby, but I love you more and more every day even without a child," Leia said. " The number of children a couple does not correlate to how happy they are."

"If it were, you 'n me'd have more kids than we knew what to do with," Han teased. Leia giggled.

"That's very true. Their second statement makes sense, I suppose. If we wanted children but couldn't, talking about it could bring light to something that many couples face but cannot talk about," she acquiesced. Han nodded in agreement. "I don't know where this is all coming from, Han. I'm sorry to keep you from work so long," she apologized.

"It's alright, Sweetheart," Han assured, rubbing her arm.

"It just makes me angry that they refuse to consider us normal because we don't want to have a kid," she continued. "We're stuck being those weird couples in all the holos that have 14 exotic pets or are really...into aerobics or have an apartment full of Chandrilan crystal."

"Well, maybe that means they'll just leave us alone," he soothed, leaning down to kiss her.

"It still makes me angry," Leia muttered, standing to ease the angle of their kiss. "They asked about Vader," she murmured. Han stopped his movement and leaned back, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking at her with concern.

"Sweetheart…"

"I've never wanted kids. Not even before I found out about him. I hate that they try to make everything about him."

"I know." They were silent for a moment, standing and soaking up the other's presence. "Do you want to tell people? I'll admit I ain't crazy about the idea, but if they're asking you about that, it might be best to just…get it all out. Like you said about the…other thing. It might show people that some folks can be happy without kids by choice," Han offered.

"That's not a bad idea. We can't be the only couple in the galaxy who just doesn't want children," she chuckled.

"We can think about it," he recommended.

"I like the sound of that," she agreed. He slipped his hand up into her newly-short hair, finding the tight spot at the origin of her headache and applying pressure. She groaned and snuggled into him.

"Tell you what. If you come home early, I'll help you get rid of that headache," Han offered, rubbing her scalp with his fingers.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked.

"Hmm…I've heard that not-makin'-a-baby can be real good for headaches—both now, and for the next 18 years and nine months," he teased in a low rumble into her ear. Leia shivered.

"Deal."

00

A month later, the press was back in the lobby. She heard the typical questions regarding Han's fidelity, her current projects, and even one about her haircut.

"Your highness, last month you denied comment on your decisions to have a family with Captain Solo. Leia turned toward the reporter.

"I have a family with Captain Solo: myself, and him. That is all the family either of us requires."

 _AN: Please read and review!_


	11. Home is Her

_AN: Prompt: Home_

Han pressed his hand against the scanner and the door slid open to admit him. He let it close behind him and locked it. The foyer lights were dark, but he could see lights on in Leia's office at the end of the hall. He glanced at his chrono—nearly three am. There was a good chance she'd fallen asleep at her desk again. Taking off his jacket and boots quietly, Han tiptoed through the apartment.

He'd been gone a week on this most recent run, and it was good to be home again.

The living room was still it's normal mix of clean lines and clutter. There was a take-out container on the coffee table that looked mostly empty—good, she'd been eating.

He passed the kitchen, too. Her heavy cloak was draped over a chair, the cursed high-heels underneath, and her bra graced the center of the table. Han knew those signs, too: it had been a long day. His wife had probably worked until well beyond a reasonable hour, stopped for something to eat, and then come home and taken off all the uncomfortable pieces of her wardrobe as soon as possible. She'd eat, then change out of her dress into pajamas.

The dim bedside lamp was on in the bedroom when he went to dump his duffle bag. Han changed into a pair of loose sleep pants, turned down the covers, and brushed his teeth, making sure that he and Leia could head straight to bed when he woke her up.

Finally, he made it to her office. The door was closed around, so he nudged it open and leaned in the doorway a moment, taking in the adorable sight of his tiny wife curled up in her giant office chair. A datapad lay dark on the desk in front of her, telling him that she'd been asleep for a little while. Leia's legs were tucked up underneath her, and she had her head leaned onto her fist propped against one arm of the chair. Her slightly graying braid swung down, almost brushing the floor.

Han knelt on the floor by her chair and spun it slowly until she faced him. He carefully put his arms around her and she unconsciously shifted to accommodate him, giving him perfect access to her slightly parted lips. He felt her wake up against him, responding sleepily to his kiss.

"Welcome home," she muttered drowsily.

"Thanks. Bed?" he suggested.

"Aren't we in bed?" she asked, her eyes still closed. Han chuckled.

"Not quite," he replied. "Come on, you'll get better sleep if we go to bed." Han stood and took her hands.

Leia unfolded herself comedically and stumbled out of her chair, her legs and feet asleep from being sat on all night. She fell into his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

"You need me to carry you?" he asked quietly into her ear.

"I can make it," she promised into his sternum, taking a few steps backwards to prove that she was capable of walking. Han chuckled and caught the lamp switch on their way by, Leia stepping backwards and their bodies entangled from the waist up, supporting each other's weight.

"You could turn around and walk like a normal person," he suggested.

"Mmm, I like this better," she replied, pressing her nose into his chest. A moment later, her knees hit the bed and they fell onto the mattress and the folded covers. Leia seemed content to lay just like that all night.

"Can I at least pull the blankets over us?" he asked as she fumbled for the light switch and settled back in.

"I don't need blankets. I have you," Leia murmured, pressing a kiss against his throat.

" _I_ need blankets," Han insisted, dragging them both into the proper sleeping position and pulling the blankets up.

"And here I thought you Corellians had such hot blood," she giggled sleepily, rolling back against him.

"I'll show you how hot my blood is," he yawned, "tomorrow." Han held Leia close, breathing in the sweet aroma of her.

"Welcome home," she mumbled, just on the brink of sleep. Han gave a tired glance around the bedroom. He knew that the apartment, the cluttered-but-cozy living room, and the kitchen that doubled as Leia's dressing room, and that stuffy little office of hers, even their bedroom, with all its comforts and fond memories…that wasn't home. Home was right here, wearing a too-big t-shirt and a braid, drooling slightly on her pillow, holding him tightly through the night. Home was _her._


	12. Princess Leia vs The Raccoon

_AN: Last one for today! This one wasn't for HL week and shouldn't be taken seriously._

Carlist Rieekan knew a lot more than he let on to. He knew where the Rogues had their "secret" sabacc games. He knew there was a secret stash of liquor in the locker third from the left in men's barracks B. He even knew about the betting pool about Solo and the Princess. As long as it wasn't harmful, he just let them have their fun. Being cooped up on a base like they were, people were bound to find some kind of mischief to get into, and better he knew about it and didn't say anything than get to the bottom of it and make them _really_ hide things.

So, when he saw Solo and a few of the Rogues gathered in the back of the hangar one day, he didn't pay much mind. Carlist kept an eye on them as he made his rounds about the floor. Money changed hands, and a large storage container, too. Probably food—Rieekan knew Solo picked up perishables when he was off-planet and made _bank_ selling them on-base. The only person he didn't make pay was the Princess, but that was hardly Carlist's business…

The Rogues made off with their crate and the incident slipped from Carlist's mind.

00

It was that afternoon that Rieekan was sitting in his office, going over supply rosters. He'd seen Solo strolling casually by, a sure sign that he was on his way to needle Princess Leia for a few minutes. He could hear them talking, but couldn't make out what was being said. It hadn't dissolved into shouting, yet, so that was a good sign.

Suddenly, a veritable _explosion_ went off down the hall. A scream came from the administration desk at the end of the corridor.

"There's a raccoon!" Cried the assistant at the desk. _A bloody what—_

Carlist poked his head out the door and looked down the hall as something small skittered past him, claws scraping at the tile floor for traction that wasn't to be found. _Oh, hells..._ the little thing finally caught an edge and turned—straight into Leia's office. _This'll be rich._

He heard an unprincesslike curse and then Solo's cool bravado:

"Don't worry, Sweetheart. I'll save you."

"Han—no—be careful!"

"Stand back, I don't want it to hurt you—kriff! Kriff!" The curses were followed by a few exuberant Corellian sneezes.

"What's wrong?"

"I think I'm—hatCHoo—allergic!" _Stars above._

"Well, don't touch it! Move!" What Carlist would have given to see what was happening in that office right then…

"Leia—ah-chOO—look out!" More sneezing.

Suddenly, the poor raccoon was back in the frictionless hallway again, this time being chased by a petite princess wielding what appeared to be a meter stick.

"Shoo! Shoo! Get the hells out of here!" Leia commanded, whapping the thing on the behind and kicking the emergency exit door open with her tiny booted foot.

Solo hobbled out of her office, face red, eyes watering, trying to get his sneezing under control. Carlist heard snickering coming from behind him and he turned to find the Rogues peeking down the hall. Skywalker had a small portable recording device and was in tears with silent laughter.

Leia yanked the door closed and hurried to punch the codes that would keep the alarm from sounding. Then, she turned and sauntered back to Han.

"You live with a seven-foot wookiee and you practically go into anaphylactic shock when you touch a _raccoon_?" she demanded. Solo opened his mouth to respond but it was drowned out by more sneezing. "Will you please go to the medical bay? I really don't want to fill out all the paperwork that would be required if you died in my office," she sassed, pressing her full advantage while Han was incapacitated. "That'd be _rich_. 'Han Solo, Brilliant Smuggler, Killed by Raccoon."

Carlist shook his head.

"Corpsman, please take Captain Solo to Medical for treatment of an acute allergic reaction," Rieekan requested.

"Yessir," the man replied, coming forward and leading a sneezing Solo out by the elbow. Leia watched them leave, shaking her head slightly in disbelief.

"Don't you all have somewhere to be?" the Princess demanded, looking down at where the Rogues had been stationed. They scurried off, giggling like schoolboys. Carlist suddenly got a sneaking suspicion… _Raccoons don't just wander into a base._ He turned the corner and found the box they'd had on the hangar floor that morning.

A cheap trick to bring Solo and the Princess together: let a wild animal loose in her office. _Solo must be getting awful desperate to do something this dumb_ , Carlist thought to himself. He shoved the box into the disposal and returned to his office. The 'New Message' icon was flashing on his desk terminal and he clicked on it.

'Princess chases wild animal while man chokes on own lungs!" was the title of the video sent to everyone on the base.

 _AN: Thanks for reading! Nice reviews make happy authors and happy authors post more things!_


	13. Lipstick

Breha put her finger gently under her daughter's chin and tipped it upward. Leia held completely still, her giant eyes looking up at Breha with excited anticipation. The queen drew the small gold tube of red pigment over Leia's lips.

"Be careful not to smudge it, okay, baby? You have to act like a big girl. That was our deal, remember?" Breha reminded. Five-year-old Leia nodded solemnly.

"I remember, Mommy. I could wear a big-girl dress and big-girl lipstick if I act like a big girl at the ball. I promise to," Leia replied.

"I know you will," Breha smiled, leaning down to brush noses with her little princess. "I have to go make sure Daddy has his clothes on right, so can you go wait with General Rieekan?" Breha requested. Leia giggled.

"Yes, Mommy," she replied, running to the antechamber, her frilly rose dress flowing adorably around her tiny body.

"General! Mommy let me wear big-girl clothes," Breha heard Leia say excitedly to Carlist before the door closed. She smiled warmly and went to her husband.

"I resent that you are putting ideas in our daughter's head that I am incapable of dressing myself," Bail teased, fixing his tie in the mirror.

"If I have to tell a little fib to get a few minutes alone with you before a ball, then so be it," Breha replied, leaning into him. "Now, I require one final kiss before I put my lipstick on," Breha requested. Bail smiled and leaned to oblige her.

00

"You'll do amazing, Leia. I know you will," her father promised, his small blue image projected onto the table in front of her.

"Take a deep breath and just go for it," her mother advised. "And one more thing—it's time for you to open the gift I sent with you," Breha instructed. Leia smiled nervously and dug through the drawer for the little package with the "do not open until instructed to do so" tag that her mother had tucked into her suitcase before leaving home. Leia pulled on the string holding the decorative paper closed. It fell back to reveal a gold tube.

"Momma, is this the special lipstick from the Highlands?" Leia asked. It was made specially only a few times a year, the color and scent coming from a special flower that only grew in the highland regions. Each batch was unique, the flowers changed by season temperatures and rainfall rates.

"Yes. You'll want to look your best for your first senate speech, and you know a lady's look is never complete without the perfect shade of lipstick," Breha smiled.

"Thank you, Momma," Leia said, carefully opening the tube and applying a layer. It was a light, rosy, red, highlighting the slight color in her cheeks. She finished her call with her parents and walked out of her office.

"You sure you're ready for this, miss?" asked the lift operator. She glanced at her reflection on the polished metal walls of the lift. Not a hair out of place, her dress hanging perfectly, her lipstick smooth and pink on her lips.

"Positive."

00

Leia woke up in unfamiliar quarters. The chrono on the table read 1000…that meant she'd been sleeping for…what, nearly 14 hours? A new, clean dress was hanging in the bare closet, and someone had draped a blanket over her. She'd been so exhausted, so emotionally rung out after everything that she hadn't even made her bed when she stumbled in last night—she'd fallen onto the bare mattress and slept like the dead—like her people, her planet, her _parents_. Dead.

A note was folded on the table, and she opened it and held it to the light.

 _Princess—we are decorating Solo and Skywalker in a public ceremony at 1400 hours. I hope you can attend. If you need anything—anything, do not hesitate to send for me. –Carlist Rieekan._

 _What am I going to do?_

Advice from her aunts drifted into her head. They'd given it to her after her first breakup.

" _We don't sit and pout, Leia. That is not the way of the women of House Organa."_ Her Aunt Tia's words came back to her.

" _We put on our best dress and our brightest lipstick. And we carry on."_ Aunt Celly's advice.

" _We hold our head up and we use our trials to make us stronger."_ Rouge's guidance had struck a particular chord.

This was nothing compared to a break-up, but it would be those words, and the resolve that came with them, that got her through this.

When the time came for the ceremony, Princess Leia Organa emerged from her quarters, far different from the tired, exhausted woman who'd stumbled in the night before.

"Do you have any lipstick I could borrow?" Leia asked one of the women who was standing around, waiting for the ceremony to start. She looked surprised for a moment, then fumbled through her pockets, producing a cheap plastic tube.

"Here you go, Princess," the woman—Lieutenant Shara Bey, if her name tag was to be believed—said. "It's an orangey color, if that's okay."

"I'll take anything," Leia assured her, swiping on a layer. The color might not be the best for her pale skin, but it didn't matter. When Leia Organa had lipstick on, she was bulletproof.

00

Living underground on an ice planet certainly did wonders against one's complexion. Leia had always been pale, but she usually had rosy cheeks to warm the lightness of her skin. Now, she was ghostly white, with no color in her cheeks and dark hallows under her eyes. The light pink color she'd once favored with lipstick no longer looked good, almost making a mockery of her lack of color. And then there was the whole idea that cosmetics during wartime while living on base were a bit of a waste. So, she just altogether stopped wearing it.

Han Solo was the only one to comment. Leia had made up as many excuses as she could, but, as was maddeningly usual, he saw through them all immediately until she had no choice but to tell him the truth.

It really shouldn't have been much of a surprise when, the evening after he returned from a supply run, there was a small flimsi sack full of all different kinds of lipstick. Leia'd had the most wonderful evening, sitting on the floor of her quarters with them spread all over in front of her, trying each one and analyzing its effects in the mirror before moving eagerly to the next color.

She loved so many of them, but her favorite was a blood red in a little silver tube.

Somehow, the next morning felt a little more _right_ as she put on a careful coat of the lipstick before going about her day.

Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she could have sworn Han's gaze lingered on her mouth longer than normal from that day on.

00

Leia had _always_ liked how lipstick looked on a woman. She'd always watched with fascination as her mother applied her favorite burgundy color every morning, or a brighter color for a more formal occasion. She remembered going to balls as a child, looking at all the different shades that the women wore. Then there had been the birthday she'd been gifted a children's make up kit. It had all sorts of crazy colors in it, and she'd spent a few months wandering the palace with green or purple or orange lips until the kit ran out. As an adult, lipstick had become to Leia what earrings were to other women—without it, she was simply naked.

But one thing Leia had never expected: how _damn good_ her lipstick looked _all over_ Han.

She was sitting astride his hips in his bunk—their bunk—on the Falcon, looking down over his chest and face. He looked like he'd broken out with some sort of rash: red marks in the shape of her mouth littered his skin, smears of maroon dragged up his neck, and his mouth was covered in the pigment.

"Whatcha smirkin' about up there, Princess?" Han asked, tickling her ribs. She squirmed on top of him and leaned down over him, adding a few wisps of color to his temple with the remaining bit of lipstick on her lips.

"How sexy you are," she said in a husky whisper into his ear. Han held her close to his body and turned to kiss her deeply. "Thank you."

"Hm…for what? For rockin' your world _twice_ this morning? For bein' handsome as hells? For kissin' you senseless?" he listed.

"For being the one thing in my life to ruin my lipstick and not my mascara," she whispered back. Han smiled.

"Sure thing, Sweetheart. Tell you what—why don't we get in the 'fresher and wash all this stuff off? Then you can get yourself all ready for the day and I'll see what I can do about ruinin' _that_ lipstick," he suggested.

"Just a few more minutes," Leia said, reaching to the bedside table for the tube. "I've got a few more places that I haven't marked up yet," she added with a lascivious grin, sliding backwards on his legs and starting from his sternum with a downward trail of kisses.


End file.
